


Rescue

by ccuddlefish



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: could be shippy if you want it to be?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 23:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3668970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccuddlefish/pseuds/ccuddlefish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leon gets a little "held up" after the events of RE4. Eventually Chris and Jill have to come and take him home. Everything would be fine, though. It would have to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rescue

It was fucking freezing, as always. The helicopter blades chopped effortlessly through the frigid air, though, and they took off with a rumble and a jolt. Smoothly, the unmarked aircraft climbed away from the tiny island, hitting a bit of turbulence that shook its residents as it started to reach optimal altitude. Even so, quickly enough they leveled off and the three passengers, would they be so inclined, were able to see past a few fluffy clouds down to the patch of land below. It was dotted with square, ugly white buildings and patches of greyish sand. The whole place was unremarkable, unappealing, and completely out of commission. Chris sighed softly, fidgeting in his seat. It was hard to deny the soft pulse of relief that was spreading upwards from his stomach, wiping away his nervous stomachache and making the buttery early morning sun seem a few shades brighter. 

"I just can't believe you did it." There was no reply from the man across from Chris, and, really, he wasn't expecting one. He continued speaking, if only to fill the silence that was starting to spread into the timbers of the helicopter, infecting everything. Like a virus. That train of thought brought back Chris' stomachache in force, however, so he forged on, talking just to hear the words, to assure himself he hadn't gone deaf.

"Had a hard fuckin' time finding you. i guess you were always pretty good at disappearing, huh." Leon's hair caught the light as his head swung around, eyes wandering aimlessly for a good half minute before catching on Chris. It was hard to read his expression, but then again, was it ever easy to read Leon? The man prided himself on an "air of mystery" or what fuckin' ever, and even someone who'd known him as long as Chris had didn't really know what went on in that blond head. The silence was creeping up again, and Chris hastily looked over to Jill for support. She caught his eye from the copilot's seat, sympathy in her eyes contrasted by the slight disgust that curled her lip and made her jaw tight. She turned away. When he found no support there, Chris sighed and forged onwards, to the annoyance of the rest of the passengers and its precious cargo. He wasn't really sure what he was saying, but he was sure that if he stopped, something awful would happen. Something so bad he didn't even want to think about it for longer than the millisecond he had already. So he talked. And talked. And talked. He spoke to Leon's turned back, filling him in on what had happened when he was gone, what was going to happen now. He ignored Jill's tight fists on the armrests of the seat, how after a few minutes she looked pained enough to slip the pair of noise-cancelling earmuffs stored in the cockpit over her ears. 

"Ashley's safe. Thought you might like to know, considering what a good job you did getting her out of there." It may not have shown, but Chris was really impressed. He supposed missions like this were par for the course for the secret service man, and that was even cooler. He only wished they'd gotten to... 

To what? Chris wondered. Talk more, probably. From what he'd heard from Claire's stories, the man was some sort of legend. Shame they'd only gotten together a few times before... This happened. 

Leon growled softly, an unusual sound, drawn out and gravelly and wet. His head slowly turned and he met Chris' eyes over his shoulder. Leon twitched once, twice, three times, growling growing wetter and louder. It really was a shame, Chris thought. With a start, he noticed a few rivulets of blood had dripped their way over Leon's lip and onto his neck. Probably biting his tongue again. This was greeted with a nonchalant groan of annoyance from Chris, and he pulled a tissue from his pocket to wipe it away. 

"Don't start with that." He chastised, folding the tissue over and replacing it in his pocket. Leon was still looking at him. Seconds passed, or maybe it was minutes. Chris looked into Leon's eyes, brown meeting red. When the rumbling of the copter made Leon's head tilt back a bit, the sun from the window caught on his face and his irises glowed a cold, dead ruby. His hands were still scratching and scraping away at the bonds on his wrists, the sound of skin being scraped bloody really didn't do it for Chris. He slid over in the seat, leaning over, hands finding Leon's wrists and the rope wrapping them, finding it satisfactorily tight. The touch of his hands settled Leon's probing fingers, if only for a second. His whole body shuddered again and again, eyes going from ruby to garnet and pupils contracting. His jaw snapped open and closed, dangerously close to Chris' ear. 

"Calm down. We've got a long ride, no need to make it any more unbearable." Of course, Leon didn't answer. Probably didn't even register what he was saying. His whole body thrummed with what could be mistaken for an electricity, lean muscles roiling and contracting under his greying skin. Blood was dripping from his teeth again. Chris smiled softly and wiped it away. He could feel Jill's eyes on the back of his neck from the cockpit as he shook off his jacket. 

"You cold?" He asked what was once Leon S. Kennedy. No answer. Some fucking super soldier, he thought, eyes skittering away from the bulging, horrific purplish lacerations across Leon's torso. He didn't want to look back up at the glowing red eyes, either, so he found his gaze fixating on the relatively normal state of his shoulders. He took his time wrapping his jacket over Leon's shuddering shoulders, deciding must have been cold in his short-sleeved getup. When he was done, he gave Leon an affectionate pat on the shoulder and settled back into his seat. 

"Try to get some sleep." Chris smiled softly. The red eyes focused on his face, although whether that was recognition or because of his urge to make Chris into a meal was hard to determine. He decided to interpret it as recognition. It wasn't like he was gone. He couldn't be. From what he'd heard of the man and what he'd seen himself, in long car rides or dinners with him and his sister, or quips tossed between them at the gym or the firing range or upon meeting, Leon was a fighter. He couldn't be gone. 

This was all starting to sound more and more like justification, like the panicked denial of someone who'd just lost a friend, but Chris steamrollered on in the way he always did. He smiled and laughed and checked Leon's restraints at his bloodied wrists and mud-drenched boots. He grinned up at Jill, before him in her seat, ignoring the thinly veiled disgust he found when he looked into her eyes. 

Everything would be fine.

It would have to be.


End file.
